


Little Forge

by StoneWitch



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Christian Character, Developing Friendships, Might be slow to update, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, feisty character, might become romance, would have to be the slowest burn you've ever seen though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoneWitch/pseuds/StoneWitch
Summary: Sable is a human woman with fire orange eyes and a drive to survive that lets her walk alongside divine allies in her own world.She has a black stained history that tends to cause hatred from her own kind and no matter what she does for her fellow humans, they will always ostracize her in the end, forcing her to live a quiet, lonely life where she's stuck somewhere in the middle of the two worlds between human and divine.That's when she's in her world though.Now she's in the DMC-verse.And V just swooped in to save her from a horde of demons.





	1. Fatigue and... Friends?

**Author's Note:**

> I plunked my OC into DMC when I stopped being able to write her actual novels.  
> It's V's fault for this distraction, so of course I'm going to fix the problem by letting the two meet.  
> And boy do I hope he's going to be able to handle her, because Sable needs a V in her life.  
> Her current best friend is the entire reason she's in this mess, so clearly she needs new friends.  
> I told myself I'd wait before posting this, but I couldn't. I am a liar, and I am not sorry.
> 
> I can't guarantee quality: most of this was written while I was at work. I'm sorry ahead of time.  
> I also apologize for the length of time it may take to update and the fact that I can guarantee you, I will actively edit the chapters posted on a frequent basis.  
> All advice, critique, and love is welcome!

Her sword sank into the chest of the grey, deformed creature and she released a heavy exhale as it dissolved into red goop at her feet. Though death was a rancid taste that usually inspired nausea when she defeated an adversary, she was able to take some solace in the fact that these _things_ were the farthest from something humanoid that she’d ever fought. Her guts at least were able to remain calm.

She’d never seen such creatures before, these huge bug like monstrosities with red sacks on their backs. They almost resembled a praying mantis, except they had bulging, swollen heads and stood much taller than her. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to fighting strange creatures; on the contrary, this part was rather normal in her own world of monsters.

Too many. That was her bigger issue.

There were too many for her and she was sensing the familiar tightness in her back as her lungs fought to keep up with the deadly dance. The recent abuse her body had suffered before she found herself here was screaming now, reminding her of her mortality and the ease with which her muscles could fail her.

 _You’re not like us, Sable!_ She recalled her friend’s thundercloud voice at the worst possible time, stumbling away from an attack when her sloppy arm movement failed to land a blow. No, she wasn’t like _him_. She was human and she was frail and she was pretty well certain that she was going to die.

An electric jolt of panic speared through her chest and for the breath of a single moment, it felt as though it was foreign. She inhaled slowly, forcing the air down over a stone settled on her collarbone and willing her lungs to inflate. Fear was something she had befriended long ago in the screams of her own torment as a young child. She had only gotten closer to it since those days. No reason to let it have leeway inside her now. If she was to go down in this battle, she’d take as many of them down with her as she possibly could.

“Father, at this rate, I won’t last much longer,” she prayed around a few heavy exhales.

Spinning round to catch another demon with her blade, she huffed again and continued, “I need help. I can’t keep this up. You’ve gotta do something.”

Her bones had become filled with lead and she thought for certain if she lifted her arm one more time to arc a slash at the incoming creature, the limb would certainly break. Still, she pushed her legs to step forward and defended herself from the incoming claws. She recognized the sluggish sway creeping into her hips, gulping down a breath that her lungs tried to deny. The end was chasing her with black claws, Death snapping at her heels awaiting the moment when she wouldn’t twist and swing at the right times.

Fine. Bring it on. She’d battle the reaper too and when she was done, she would rest in a city with golden streets. The stone on her chest would be pulled out, saving her collarbone from snapping beneath its weight, and maybe she’d finally know what peace was like without having to rely on the holy spirit spreading it across her wounds like a blanket. It’d really be hers.

Strangely enough, she was brought back from her revery by the distinct sound of wind beneath huge wings. _Birds are too gentle for a desolate place like this_ , she mused while her eyes began to droop despite the danger she found herself in.

Claws caught her leg as she sluggishly dodged them, but she couldn’t manage to cry out at the heat licking across her thigh. Blood spilled down from the wound. She still couldn’t bring herself to care.

Lightning flashed a moment later, striking in a circle all around her as it electrocuted each beast that surrounded her. The electricity so close brought heat to her already flushed skin, rolling a wave of nausea up from her belly. Her muscles tightened almost in a flinch and the hand clutching her sword was suddenly holding it in a white knuckled grip.

More flashes of lightning came down and she saw a blur of blue rush past her. She tried to narrow her eyes on it, but that only led her to another surprise.

Something solid pressed against her leg, shooting a vibrant jolt of terror up through her spine before she could stop it. She pivoted and hopped away, swinging her blade downward out of instinct as she faced the foe who could sneak up so close.

A black panther easily dodged her sloppy movement, its red eyes gleaming as its tail twitched.

“Oi! Girl!” a rather annoyed voice from above shouted. “Go with the big cat and leave the rest of these urchins to me and the poet.”

 _What_?

The crash of more magical lightning jolted her aching, tired nerves and the panther stepped towards her slowly, seeming oblivious to the creatures trying to lunge at them. The lights and heat were keeping them away, and she had never been more confused in her entire life.

“Father, I need your guidance,” she urgently prayed, glancing up at the sky, “can I trust this?”

But the panic in her heart was outweighing her spiritual discernment and only silence returned. Trying to lift her blade made her decision; her hand shook and she almost lost her grip. _No choice then_ , she concluded. She couldn’t fight anymore, even if these sudden allies later turned out to be the fire beneath the frying pan.

The feline stood wisely watching her while sounds of battle raged around them, stepping forward again until its breathing could be felt against her legs. And as quick as its exhale, she was too hot. Between the exertion, the lightning and magic, and this strange panther easing into her space to press against her and lead her away, it was all too much. Her head was filled with moss and bugs, a squirming bog that was slinking down into her muscles.

She didn’t remember taking so many steps with the red eyed creature, but she looked up to find the wall of a destroyed building inviting her to rest. Turning and giving in, she hissed in pain as her aching, flushed muscles greedily soaked up the chill in the bricks against her back. Her fire-forge eyes closed on their own accord, too heavy with exhaustion to observe who was swooping in to save her. The thought of that word lit a fire in her gut, causing her jaw to clench while she fought down the ache in her bones. _I’m not weak_.

No, but she was tired. And even her pride couldn’t deny that.

Echoing silence sharply took over, bringing a stab of anticipation through her guts. _Fire?_ She still couldn’t bring her eyes to open just yet, and found she was allowing the presence of this warm feline next to her to bring some sense of comfort. It almost made her laugh, but that would have required too much energy.

“Are you alright?” asked a deeper voice than the first one she’d heard. It was smooth as silk, and deep like the crack of wood.

Peaking her orange eyes open just enough to see him, she nodded slowly.

“I’m fantastic,” she declared with a slight bite of attitude.

He was much taller than her, this black clad stranger who obviously controlled the panther beside her. A blue bird of prey was hovering beside him, flapping his large wings to keep himself up. The creature had a mean, black hooked beak that looked dangerous and she took note of this.

The man was eyeing her with an intense stare she couldn’t place, his hand raised as he stepped slowly closer. It was like he expected her to lash out at any second. _Smart man_.

She took a quick assessment of him, taking in the swirls of tattoos across his arms and torso. He had a sleeveless leather trench coat on that had two inner flaps which were loosely tied across his stomach. His face was all angles and sharp bones, reminding her far too much of someone she thought she was close to. It brought an ache to her heart that she had to force away as swiftly as it came.

He leaned on a gold cane, and as he stepped towards her, the sharpness of her warrior’s eye caught the barest indications of a limp.

“Poet?” she queried, raising a brow.

The traces of a smirk tilted up on his lip, and he nodded. “It was Griffon here who spoke to you. Beside you is Shadow. And you can call me V.”

Her friend, nausea was starting to return as she fought to clear the blur in her eyes. Still, she nodded and acknowledged that she’d heard, but she wasn’t going to give her own name that easily.

Old habits died hard and though she was certain this place knew nothing of the legends that plagued her home, she was too familiar with the recoil and disdain that followed her name. The legend of the madman, Kazious, and his child mistress who remained by his side unflinching as he slaughtered thousands. She didn’t blame them for the recoil. But she could still avoid it.

He must have expected her to say something, anything, because the silence spread on for a few minutes while he observed her.

“Are you hurt?” he finally asked.

Her back said yes, and so did the blood that was dripping down her thigh from that gash she’d ignored until realizing right at that moment that she needed all the blood inside her as possible. She was so tired she thought she might just slip down the wall and take a nap in the rubble.

Despite all of this, she shook her head no.

Sure, she realized that there was no way he could look at her battle worn state, the heavy lidded stare of her orange eyes, and not see that she was bleeding, or conclude that she probably couldn’t fight him if he decided to _become the fire_. No way in hell, though, would she ever let on that she needed any further assistance than what he already provided. She was humble enough to be grateful he’d arrived when he did, and in the back of her mind she mused that maybe her father had sent him in as back up.

But now would be a perfect time for him to take his creatures and be on his way so she could find a quiet hole to huddle in while she nursed her wounds and aching muscles.

This place was much more violent than what she was used to back home, which she didn’t admit lightly considering she came from a world of monsters and gods; a world where humans didn’t stand a chance at a normal life unless they were perfect hermits.

She wasn’t prepared for this kind of violence lasting for so long, though. Her world didn’t come with swarms of the monsters she used to fight.

She was going to kill her dear friend when she finally made it back. _If_ she even could go back.

But she became suddenly aware of the fact that V’s mouth was moving.

“Sorry, what?” she blinked a few times to try bringing her mind back to focusing on him.

He frowned then, taking another step toward her. When had he managed to get that close? He was towering over her now, despite putting much of his weight on the cane in his hand. She shrunk against the wall out of instinct first, cursing in her mind afterwards and raising her chin like a challenge.

“I asked if you had somewhere safe to go?” he repeated slow, his intense gaze flickering across her small body.

She could see the color of his eyes now, a deep forest green, and was able to finally place what that stare held behind it: an analytical sponge of concern. He was soaking in every detail about her and studying it carefully. There was no way he wouldn’t realize just how wounded and weak she was.

“Yes,” she still lied. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

He nodded, holding out his hand as he offered her a soft smile, “let me take you there then. I wouldn’t leave someone defenseless in this place.”

At that, her eyes narrowed into sharp slits. Heat licked up her chest; a fire that lit up in her eyes.

“I am _not_ defenseless,” she hissed.

V’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise before he smoothly recovered and reiterated, “I only meant that your condition right now-”

“Is entirely fine,” she interrupted, holding up a hand to cut him off. “You’ve got your hero badge for saving the distressed damsel, now you can run along.”

He frowned hard, dropping the offered hand but not making any other moves.

The annoyed voice returned and she realized it was from the bird as he glared at her, “this chick’s got a death wish, V. Let her die then.”

 _You and Gabe would get along well_ , was the first thought that came to mind, which only fueled the flames inside her.

She glared at him, but the man had raised his hand into the air sharply, hushing Griffon with a muttering of, “hush, we are doing no such thing.”

No? _Well shit._


	2. Dimmed Fire

Standing still was beginning to set tension into her back, the telltale signs of the muscles getting ready to seize on her and stiffen if she didn’t get moving. She breathed a hard exhale, lighting the fires in her large eyes and stepping away from the wall.

“Look, I do appreciate that you stepped in and helped me,” she started, forcing her tired legs to take back her weight and locking her jaw against their protests, “I pray your heroism meets blessings. But I can take care of myself now and I _do no_ t need an escort. Go find somebody else to fuss over.”

 _Please, for the love of my father, just go. My legs are going to collapse_.

His sudden smirk almost jarred her with how easy it slipped up his lips.

“You don’t have anywhere to go,” he stated it like he’d just plucked the truth out of her mind.

That nausea returned, rolling inside her chest, except this wasn’t from exhaustion. _Don’t tell me you’re like him in_ **_that_ ** _regard too._ It was her turn to frown. Her mind didn’t feel the press of that power, but that didn’t mean much. The violation of the mind could be subtle if the violator knew what they were doing. She remained silent, glaring at him and struggling to stand on her shaky legs while she crossed her arms over her chest. _I’ll bury my sword in your skull if you’re diving inside my mind. Don’t test me._

She watched his eyes carefully, only to find no indication of having received the threat. It left her stunned that this stranger could have simply read the truth from her physical body somehow. 

He lifted his cane in a gesture that drew her gaze to it as he raised an eyebrow. “I know that desperate look in your eye. You’re exhausted and alone and waiting for me to leave so you can suffer in peace.” He spoke with such confidence in his deduction that she found a thread of respect filtering from her chest. He wasn’t wrong. “Let me take you somewhere safe enough to rest at the very least, then be on your way as you please. Just don’t huddle away somewhere in this ruined city when you can barely stand on your own two legs. That’s all I ask.”

As much as she loathed to admit it, she could see the sensibility in his request. It made sense, and it really shouldn’t upset her. He was concerned and rightfully so.

“How can I know that I’m not being led into a trap?” she asked slowly.

The question brought his smirk back and she had to admit then that he was quite handsome. _He could be Gabe’s brother_ she thought. It almost made her laugh, until flashes of her friend’s mismatched eyes appeared in her mind and punched her heart with an ache of remembrance. She had to turn her eyes down from the hunter’s mirth.

He smoothly replied, “we both know that what I say will not change your suspicion.”

That was true. And also where his similarities to her friend stopped. Gabe was always pushing her limits and trust, acting as though it hurt him that she would suspect treachery from the man known as the ‘Immortal Trickster’.

“Fine. I’ll come with you,” she relented.

“Do you need help walking?” he asked immediately, moving along with no indication of smugness for having _won_ that argument.

Another striking difference. If she were willing, she might even admit that she didn’t mind getting to slowly know this stranger.

Yet she wanted to lie again and say that she would be just fine. The only thing stopping her was admitting that she was almost certain her leg was going to give out the second she picked it up and took a step. A hard frown pulled her lips down and she furrowed her brows. _Can I trust him, though_? That was still the question.

V must have taken her silence for an answer; he made a gesture to the feline standing slightly behind her. Shadow then stepped up and she realized finally that the panther’s head could reach the middle of her ribs. His red eyes gleamed up at her as he silently and slowly moved his body towards her until she felt his warmth against her hip.

“Shadow will take your weight and help you walk,” V explained softly, adding for her pride, “ _if_ you need the help.”

Why the hell was this suddenly making tears sting the corners of her eyes? She wasn’t sure, but it had her chest squeezing nonetheless. She clenched her jaw, blinking her eyes fast to push the fluid back. A shaking hand reached out and touched the head of this kind creature next to her. The movement of her arm caused a jolt of electric heat to run down from her shoulder to her palm, reminding her of the sensitive scarring just above her armpit. _Right, that’s going to act up now. Of course_.

“Alright, where are we going,” she prompted after a moment, testing the strength of her legs with a careful step forward.

Shadow pressed his body against her as she moved, stabilizing her hips and allowing her to trust her legs to move without failing. He must have been taught to do that, she concluded absently, wondering about this dark savior’s own injury.

V turned around and began to walk ahead of her, calling over his shoulder, “I must track down a phone and call our ride to us. Then we’ll go back to a safe house outside the city.”

She made careful progress behind him, well aware of the tightness in her lower back and hips telling her to sit down already. A message she was rather accustomed to from her sore limbs. One she regularly ignored until she crashed.

Pushing her human limits was nothing new to her; she was used to traveling and fighting alongside with powerful divine beings on a fairly regular basis. Hell, her best friend was a twelve thousand year old immortal brat. A brat that she was going to learn how to kill. When she got back.

 _If_ she got back.

But her last journey had managed to get her stabbed through the shoulder, which hadn’t helped the already overstrained muscles of her drawing arm. Her anchor point had constantly reminded her every time she shot an arrow that the weight she’d been drawing was at the edge of her physical capabilities, if not pushing it. On top of that, she’d had a building fall on her in the last month and later that night, her arm had all but stopped working when her sore back and the aforementioned stab wound caught up with her.

That hadn’t even been the worst of it. Not even twenty four hours after that, her best friend (yes, the one that was immortal and shitty and a powerful psychic that probably should be the last person with that much power in his mind) had his body taken over by _the god of chaos_ and beat her within an inch of her life - including throwing her against a tree, strangling her, and breaking her ribs - before she finally managed to draw Gabe back into control of his body.

So, by the time the unfortunate circumstances arose that brought her to this place, she was already well on her way to burning out entirely.

Thankfully as they progressed, her aching muscles hushed their cries and silently faded to a numbness that she could work with. She sped up naturally, walking fast enough to catch up to V’s long legs while Shadow easily matched her shift in speed. Her chin was high and her eyes were lit aflame again, staring ahead in determined ferocity even when she saw the taller man in her peripherals glance down at her with amusement.

“What can I call you?” he queried with a smile.

She opened her mouth to let another easy lie flutter out, but snapped it shut when the familiar warmth of supernatural peace glowed in her belly. _Don’t lie to him_ , the spirit whispered. _He has done nothing to deserve your suspicion._ Funny how her father’s helper would awaken now that she was somewhat calmed down and not in the middle of wondering if she would even survive. She always had a bad habit of letting the battle draw her heart from the spiritual calm of faith and back into the chaos of the physical.

“My name is Sable,” she stated finally.

Glancing up, she caught the surprise that swiftly shot across his eyes when he glanced down and measured the truth of her statement. He’d clearly been expecting to receive the alias that she’d prepared to give. Yet he somehow sensed her honesty as well. He was a smart man and she found another thread of respect being tugged from her chest.

His gaze diverted then, caught by something ahead of them.

“There’s our phone,” he said softly, directing her attention away from his face. “I’m going to call a friend and she’ll come pick us up. Then you can rest.”

She tried her hardest to swallow down the sudden terror clawing up her throat. _Of course there would be more people involved here._ Still, her hands tightened into fists at her sides. _How many more, though?_ She wasn’t even sure if she’d have the speed to defend herself against this man’s bird. And she had no doubts that the helpful feline beside her wouldn’t hesitate to snap its jaws around her if instructed to do so. Her chest squeezed as she began to walk slower, falling behind as V stepped up and dropped some coins into the machine.

As if realizing her trepidation, the panther beside her turned his head and looked up at her. Despite the crimson shade in his small eyes, she could see something that could almost resemble _understanding_ from the creature. It somehow managed to loosen the knot in her chest, if only slightly. He rubbed his head against her hip and let out a huff, like he was telling her something about calming down.

When he hung up, V moved to lean against the wall beside the phone, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his cane dangle off a hooked finger. She couldn’t stop the narrow eyed glance she gave him then, tracing the loose hold of his muscles and the soft, sincere smile on his lips.

He wasn’t hiding anything still. It drew her mouth into a hard frown, but she did settle the knot in her chest. No sabotage waiting when this ‘ride’ arrived then.

“It’ll only take her a few minutes to find us,” he told her. “I’m going to have to take my friend back, though. If you’re alright?”

His friend.

His friend?

Oh... right.

She glanced down at Shadow. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but his master. With careful steps, she moved away from the panther and looked back at V.

He reached out his hand and Sable watched as a black mass of ink and smoke swirled from beside her to his body, circling his outstretched arm and gliding up across his chest. His swirling tattoos seemed to thicken, darkening and filling in spaces that once were void of the ink. She didn’t have to look to know that Shadow was no longer beside her. He met her intense stare with one that _dared_ her to react.

Instead, her guts were punched again.

 _Gabe’s other power outside of his mind was similar in appearance_ , she remembered as her heart twisted so tight inside her chest that she thought it was going to burst. She had to turn away from him, glancing up at the sky and gulping down a couple deep breaths. It was almost funny: how he could betray her _again_ and yet she _still_ could miss his playful smirk and the mischief in his blue and brown eyes. How she could stand there in front of a strange, tattooed spitting image of her friend and feel her heart aching for Gabe’s embrace while at the exact same time, her fists craved to break the bones of his nose.

 _That bastard_ , she spat in her mind, clenching her jaw tight enough to shoot colors up into her head.

Still, her mind played back a recent memory without her permission, forcing her to watch once again when his hand glowed with a crimson light as black smoke rose off his skin, dripping ink down his fingertips. It was like oil lit by glowing blood. Three metal snakes, each as thick as his fist, tore through his palm. Her eyes followed them, her jaw loose with shock as they flew across the field. She had to push hard on her mind to shut heavy oak doors across the memory before it could finish.

She didn't want to relive the power that was killing him. Not after he’d used it to betray her. _Again_.

Sable clenched her fists so tight that her nails bit her palms, sobering her immediately and letting her breathe deeply.

V's eyes never left her back while she had her moment. She could feel them boring into her spine and sucking dry the emotions she was trying to hide. She pulled herself back together with great effort, tying up all the pain and anger and sadness, burying it down deep inside her belly. This was no place for such feelings. They would get her killed… if her humanity didn’t already have that death warrant signed.

High pitched screeching announced the approach of skidding tires as a tan colored van pulled to a squealing stop beside V.

 _His friend._ He was outweighing her in resources and _friends_.

Still, she walked over without needing to be prompted, keeping one hand clenched while the other twitched for her sword. She would play nice, though, she promised herself. Her father still hadn’t spoken to her since she’d arrived, but the spirit within had returned to its racing in her veins. She would trust its judgement. She had to.

The driver was a woman with thick black hair that had tight curls tumbling down her shoulders. A headband held back much of it, making her hair seem huge atop her head. She had a cheeky grin that she greeted Sable with and a dark smattering of freckles across brown skin.

“V, you didn’t tell me she was so pretty!” the woman exclaimed, smacking V’s arm lightly as he stepped into the van beside her. “You can call me Nico, lil lady.”

She reached out her hand, waving Sable in and helping her up the steps before she could mutter the usual ‘don’t touch me’ that waited on her tongue.

The van was stuffy and hot, but Sable had managed to settle her exhausted flush enough that it didn’t overheat her like the lightning had before. One more person was inside, walking towards them from the front of the van. She tensed immediately, narrowing her eyes and taking in his bulky stature as he made his way to them. His eyes were clear blue and friendly despite the fact that he was built like a warrior. He had snow white hair buzzed short and a deep blue jacket over torn red and grey layered shirts.

“It’s not like V to make friends,” he chirped, casting her a handsome smile which only managed to increase her suspicion. “Welcome to the fight.”

He offered his hand to shake, but she didn’t move. Both her hands were fists now.

_Too many potential adversaries, too small of a space. Speed would be needed to survive. Stay by the door. My legs are going to burn if I have to run. Can’t forget that damn bird, whos found a perch above me on some kind of shelf._

_Shit. Shit. Shit!_

This was bad.

“She’ll throw a punch if you don’t back up, Nero.” V’s smooth voice deduced with amused ease.

He was correct. _Smart man_ , she praised for the second time.

Nero showed a brief moment of surprise before listening and stepping back, casting her a strange look. She recognized it, but she hated it. A glance that saw her like a wounded animal. Something delicate and dangerous all in one, something to be watched and protected and carefully approached. The irony of the truth wasn’t lost on her either, but it still enraged her that she was read so easily.

A hand thumped down on her shoulder, sending jolts of lightning up her neck. The sensitive scarring underneath one of their fingertips was the only reason she managed to hold still and just look over at the woman who’d touched her.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” she said with a thick accent that Sable somehow hadn’t noticed before. “You can go have a seat and I’ll get us out of this shit hole. The boys won’t bite, and I assume if they did you’d bite right back anyway. So don’t worry your pretty lil head, you’re safe now.”

She caught her scoff the second before it left her throat. Safe was a joke when it came to humans. This was something she’d been taught by her parents as a small child being handed up to a monster. _Safe_ wasn’t her concern. Safe was easy to slip in and out of. How long would she be ‘safe’? How long before one of them gets an idea in their head? How long until they turn against her too?

How many goddamn times had she been ‘safe’ and within the breath of a thought, someone was trying to kill her, throwing her away, cutting her, hitting her, tossing her down a dried up well with animal carcasses at the bottom.

Throwing her through a goddamn portal into an entire other world just because she wasn’t backing down from a fight that may or may not have gotten her killed.

Screw safe.

She bit her tongue, though and zeroed her gaze in on a seat behind the passenger side. It faced towards the driver and two benches with a table between them. She’d see everyone. She’d be technically cornered, but she realized that was inevitable in this vehicle.

In order to sit down properly, she had to unstrap her sword from her back and pull out the dagger sheathed at the base of her spine. These she laid across her lap, feeling somewhat more comfortable with their accessibility. Though with the way her arm struggled to accomplish pulling the sword off, she didn’t expect to be able to wield it until her old battle wounds had calmed down.

She focused on her breathing as the vehicle roared to life, wiping away the bloody flashes of memory in her mind every time they tried to sneak up on her. That ridiculous promise had weakened all her defenses on these thoughts. It was like her mind had set out to prove every time someone had ever promised her safety had ended in bloodshed somehow. _I won’t always be safe. You just wait and see._ Was there any piece of her history that wasn’t stained crimson?

Perhaps… if this were some strange blessing… she might find this next chapter Gabe had tossed her into would be crystal clear for a time.

She hated herself for hoping.


	3. Settled Coals

The drive was jostling. Her tense muscles grew stiff like stones almost immediately, causing pulsating aches to flash down her back and her drawing arm. She absently rubbed at the scar that hindered her battle, tracing up over her shoulder to the muscles that were always tired after any lengthy fight.

“So, are you an archer?” Nero prompted from beside her in the passenger’s seat. 

She glanced down at the empty quiver on her hip with a frown. “What was your first clue?”

His chuckle was almost lost in the sounds of the groaning vehicle as they violently rocked over a hard bump. 

“Your drawing arm has more muscle to it and I can tell its bloody sore,” he explained, stunning her. 

When the hell did he have the chance to notice that? How the hell did he even know what to look for or what her muscles were telling him? 

He had the same sight that she’d trained in her own self. It unnerved her slightly.

She felt the sharpness of an intensely studious stare from the seat across from her. Apparently, V hadn’t noticed these things. 

“What happened to your bow, then?” this came from the dark hunter, who was frowning hard. 

“One of those things sliced through it when they caught up to me,” she responded with a shrug of her shoulders, wincing when it caused sparks to fly down her right side.

“You ever fought demons before, chicky?” came Nico’s voice, though she didn’t turn her eyes from the road. 

The story she hid beneath her clothes would answer that rather easily. But an unsettling realization sank into her stomach.  _ Are the divine beings even different here _ ? A shutter passed her spine.

Still, she answered slowly, “yes… but they’ve never looked like that when I’ve fought them.” She turned a questioning eye on V and prompted, “was that what they were, though?”

He nodded slowly. “That’s also what Shadow and Griffon are.”

Tense silence filled the space, only broken by the jostling of the crazed driving. Sable frowned, casting her eyes down as she thought about this new information. 

The vehicle came to such a sudden stop that Sable’s guts rolled up into her throat for a second. She didn’t stand right away, waiting for the others to move first. Her gaze followed Nico’s back while she hopped down out of the van, noting a lack of tension in her muscles. Alright then. No secret motives still.

Across from her, V stood, but didn’t walk towards the door. No, he offered her a hand. 

Which she glared at. 

And stood up on creaking legs, feeling her hips pop loudly at the movement. She sucked in a quiet hiss, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, her gaze immediately connected with emerald green, a quiet observance in his that made her feel small under his stare. 

His hand was still outstretched. 

She pointedly ignored it and walked down to the back of the van, throwing the door open. 

“The hell is her problem?” she heard that bird ask as she marched into the house. 

Another person was there, a woman with soft looking skin and light brown hair. She was just turning away from receiving the soft peck that Nero placed on her lips, her face lighting with innocent kindness when she saw Sable. The warmth in that expression made Sable painfully aware of the sweat, grime, and blood that covered her. 

“You must be Sable,” she greeted, offering her hand out as she introduced herself, “I’m Kyrie, Nero’s wife.”

Sable gave her an impish smile, “I wouldn’t want to get blood on your hand, but I appreciate the welcome.”

She saw Nero’s eyebrows raise in her peripherals, stifling a chuckle to herself. Kyrie looked her up and down, realizing her poor condition. Her eyes zeroed in on the wound everyone else failed to notice. 

“Oh! I’ll draw you a hot bath and put out some first aid supplies, come have a seat,” she fussed, pulling a chair out from the table for her before disappearing from the room. 

She didn’t sit, but braced herself with the back of the chair under her hand, casting Nero a soft smile. 

“She’s nice,” Sable stated softly. 

“Uhm… Yeah?” Nero replied, scratching the back of his neck. 

His confusion made Sable chuckle. “I’m not some feral animal. Being cautious of you doesn’t mean I’ll lash out at her for kindness.”

“Noted.”

Kyrie appeared again, a bundle of linens in her hands and her smile still in place. “Come, I’ll show you to the washroom, the water’s running now.”

Upstairs, Sable grew tense again as she entered the steamy bathroom. Kyrie placed her pile on the counter, facing the other woman with a hand on the bundled materials. 

“Here’s your towel and a change of clothes. I’m slightly taller than you, so I couldn’t find any slacks that would fit. I hoped a night gown would be alright,” she gave her an apologetic look then before stifling it and moving on. “If you put your clothes outside the door when you’ve undressed, I’ll wash and mend them for you.”

She walked toward Sable, slipping past her and pausing in the doorway. Sable’s forges never left the woman’s movements. 

Kyrie appeared to struggle for something to say, but Sable let her take the time to decide her next words. She was curious at this woman’s gentleness and felt a blooming trust for those downstairs because of this woman’s ease. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” she finally said slowly, locking eyes with the surprised fires across from her. 

She looked like she had more to say, but she left it there and closed the door. 

Sable’s mouth hung open slightly, a fresh sting clinging to her eyes.  _ You’ll regret it. I know that you will. People like you always do. _

She leaned her sword against the wall and placed the dagger next to it. Gingerly peeling off her layers of clothing, hisses of pain spilled from her mouth. Raising her arm proved to be nearly impossible and when the agony spat flames out from her shoulder, she wasn’t able to swallow down the yelp. Still, she managed to free her torso and set to work on her pants. The gash in her thigh had begun to scab over, making it tender to the tugging of the material around it. More hissing filled the bathroom until she could work the material all the way down her legs. 

Standing naked and looking down at her body, a lump of bile sat at the base of her throat. She was ragged and ugly. Thick, winding scars like braided ropes curled across her belly and hips. She knew they were worse across her back, though. The marks being discolored back there, permanently left a shade of lilac on her pale skin. Winding like a pit of snakes across her flesh. Gabe had been the only other person to see them after she’d wounded her back, and he had barely held himself together. 

She closed her eyes, breathing in slow and trying not to let the memory of  _ those days _ sneak back up on her. Her shoulders still remembered the heated lick of the whip back then, and that was all they needed to come flooding forward. A child void of emotion on her face, screaming on the inside, but careful not to make a sound while wondering why she deserved this? Hands on her flesh, squeezing and bruising and staining her innocence with grime. Heated knives and melted glass across her skin.  _ Punishment _ .  _ Don’t open your mouth. Not to scream, or talk, or moan. Just silence. Be silent. Be a ghost. Be nothing. Be perfect stillness for defilement. Be water and when the mud splashes, don't whisper a sound. Just accept it. Accept it.  _

_ You're nothing. _

The warm tears dripping down her cheeks were sobering, drawing her back to the present where she stood naked and broken and ugly in the bathroom of a household of strangers who never batted an eyelash at the thought of inviting her in. 

Mechanically, she bent down and balled all her clothes up together. She opened the door just enough to turn and kick them out, standing behind it away from anyone’s line of sight. As she closed the door, she leaned her forehead against it, breathing long and slow. A sudden urge to weep rose up and choked her. _No! Don't do it._ _Tuck it away. That’s not who I am anymore._ She always tried to remind herself of that. It didn’t always work, though. 

The storm cloud of memory remained with her as she lowered herself into the tub, groaning when her muscles both cried and celebrated the embrace of the smoldering water. Sinking under the water, she let herself soak in the heat for a while, drawing it through her aching muscles and locking it up in her bones. 

For one long minute, she traced the shape of her body with the soft, lapping waves of the water coming to rest all around her. At the base of her spine, she could feel the twist of the deepest scars as they greedily ate up more of that heat than the rest of her body. On cue, the silent screaming of a stained, defiled child roared to life inside her mind again. 

She waited with her eyes closed, pushing all her strength into concentrating on the restless water all around her. Her chest caved in with the memories, but she did her best to ignore them and focus. When stillness finally came over the waters, she gently commanded her muscles to begin easing themselves loose, pressing down each individual limb with a quiet urging all the way down her body like the opening of casket lids. 

It took probably ten minutes of silence and concentration before she was truly and fully at ease. 

Only then did she begin to wash the blood and grime from her body.

She was slow with her hands, trying to ignore the way her sword arm began to tremble when she lifted the soaked cloth. It had started having difficulty in the last few weeks as her body took more and more abuse in her travels. Though she was no hero and wrinkled her nose at the title, she did save people and she never backed down from a fight. Especially when she probably should have. 

A loud splash jolted all her nerves like shattering a mirror and she stared down at the cloth she’d dropped. Her hand was shaking violently over the water’s disturbed surface. 

Time to get out. 

“Father,” she whispered, angry at how her voice trembled as she dried herself. “I don’t know where you’re taking me or what you still need of me but… I do know that I'm not going to be of much use to you if this keeps up. I don’t even know if I can still wield my sword.”

Tears denied from above were jammed down into her throat.  _ What am I if I am useless even to the Creator _ ?

The night gown Kyrie had given her must have been fairly small on the taller woman because it didn't pool at Sable's feet like she expected it to. It reached her ankles and was a deep shade of blue that she liked. She had a cloak of the same shade which would be washing right about then if Kyrie had seen her clothes outside the door.

It left her shoulders and arms revealed though, which brought a sense of dread into her skin. 

She didn't like facing the staring or the questions when her scars were seen, nor did she appreciate when she had no control over who she would have to answer to. 

At least the worst and deepest of the torture marks would be covered, though. She wasn't as concerned about the thinner roped snakes that crossed over a spider web of whip marks across her shoulder blades or the knot of scarring from her stab wound above her armpit.

This, she could handle.

So why was she suddenly so anxious? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be extended when the story is continued!


End file.
